


Letting go

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: A moment shared after Zegnatus.





	Letting go

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this art](https://mysteriousbean5.tumblr.com/post/184320031766/have-i-mentioned-i-love-these-dorks) (which is absolutely amazing and you should check it out right now)
> 
> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is property of Square Enix.** I just like to play in the sandpit they've created for the fans.

The tremble of fingers under his arms has nothing to do with cold, he knows.  Of them both Prompto runs warmer, almost scalding every place they touch.  Maybe it has something to do with the bruises painting his ribs in deep purples and blues, or the magic exhaustion preventing their healing.  Prompto's always been concerned about others first, after all, always before himself.  It drives Noctis mad on the best of days.   _You matter, too!_ he wants to scream, grab Prompto by his bony shoulders and shake him for good measure.

He turns his face into Prompto's hair instead, clean of sweat and blood and the remnants of daemons and Zegnatus, still damp and curly and absolutely perfect.  "I thought I'd lost you," he says on a whisper, a quiet confession that rattles his breath and he gasps where he hides, once, twice -

"I couldn't go dying on you," Prompto replies, and he flinches to hear it, that bone-deep fear so nearly a reality, "not without saying goodbye."

He doesn't know who breaks first but it's not long before he's sobbing, and Prompto's sobbing, and they curl into each other, as close as they can get and then some.  And when fingers find his where they grip the sheets he takes hold of them instead.

Squeezes tight, too tight, nowhere tight enough.

_I'm not letting go. Never again._


End file.
